There were times I wished video games weren't invented. Don't get me wrong, I, too, benefited from having my kid played video games. He learned a few techniques, some I wished he never discovered.

The past few days had been challenging in terms of finding something to do that we both enjoyed.

Earlier this week, I drove him and his friends to the skateboard park. He was concerned at first that I would be worried that him and his friends would get hurt that he suggested that I just drop them off and come back.

Of course, that would never happen. I stayed at the parking lot looking over them while they skateboarded. I experienced a few pins and needles as they fell off their boards, but I tried not to make a scene -- I didn't want my son to revoke my invitation to sort of hang-out with him.

Today, we were supposed to head to the City, but I just found out that my 13 year-old son didn't like going to the City. Of course, I was devastated because I love being in the City.

"That's why I stopped going for auditions," my son added in his deep voice.

Hmm. I didn't know that. I thought he enjoyed going to the Museums and running around Central Park or Times Square.

"The present moment is filled with joy and happiness. If you are attentive, you will see it." -
Thich Nhat Hanh's

The day started out on a positive note.

I have a bad habit of checking my email every morning. You see, my family lives continents apart and the only way I keep in touch with them is through social media or email.

That morning, my dear friend happened to email me about her 21-Day Complaint Free Challenge, and one of the quotes she mentioned was that of Thich Nhat Hanh's, a Vietnamese Zen Buddhist monk.

So is it true that the present moment is filled with joy and happiness?

I was up early because I needed to be in uptown New York to find answers to a medical concern that was haunting my child for months.

Spending time with my son is always a happy event.

So I guess, so far so good.

Fortunately, the neurologist gave us good news. To celebrate such a day, my son and I had an impromptu breakfast at a diner nearby his school.

Another happy moment!

Around noon, my oldest daughter met me in the City. She was anxious getting into the City but I decided to make the rest of her day a better one.

First, we had lunch at the rooftop of the Local Café and Cocktails across Penn Station. It was a chilly morning so spending a couple hours on the rooftop under the sun was a warm treat. PLUS, I get to spend my "lunch break" with my one and only daughter.

Another moment filled with joy and happiness!

My daughter and I decided to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Getting the right subway train was sort of stressful especially when your old 3G iPhone kept flashing "Low Battery". Surprisingly, 2 geographically-challenged girls managed to make it to Central Park West.

That afternoon happened to be lovely afternoon that we opted to take a walk in the Park and had profound conversations about life and what makes someone happy or when does someone realize the thing - that spark - that makes you happy.

September 10, 2001, I said my “goodbyes” to my
parents. Because of corrupt lawyers, my parents had to move. We had a little argument that night because I
was upset.

Then tomorrow came. It was September 11, 2001.

A few minutes past 8 in the morning, I had just
dropped off my three children at school. I was driving my Ford Expedition with
my 6-month-old baby in his car seat, heading back home to drive my parents to
the airport when I heard on the radio, Z100-FM, that an airplane had crashed
into the WorldTradeCenter.
I hurriedly went back to the house and turned on the television.

I couldn’t believe what I saw on television.

My parents had originally planned on taking an earlier
flight from NewarkInternationalAirport
to San Francisco,
where my Mom’s sister lives. However, in the previous week, my parents had
changed their minds and had switched their plans to fly to Los Angeles instead. If my Mom had insisted
on heading to San Francisco, my parents could
have been on board United Airlines Flight 93, which ultimately crashed in Pennsylvania.

As I watched TV, I couldn’t move. The kids were in
school. My husband, C, was at work. I called my brother and told him to stay
put and said, “We’re not taking Mom and Dad to the airport!”

And then the phone rang. The caller-ID registered my
mother-in-law’s work number. She worked in a building right near the WorldTradeCenter.

“Mom, are you all right?” I asked, before C’s mom
could say hello.

“I’m fine. Dad is here,” she replied.

“No, he’s not there,” I said.

“No, Dad is here,” she repeated, enunciating every
syllable so I could understand her.

“No, he’s in Cranford,”
I insisted.

“Not today, honey,” she said. “Today he went to the WorldTradeCenter, and he is here
with me at the office. Both Dad and I are heading out.”

"Your parents?" she asked.

"Not on that plane."

In her office was a collage of family pictures I had
given her – C and me, my husband's sister, M, and various pictures of the four children.
She was looking at the photographs as she continued in a somber tone, “We will
come home. I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I promise you we will be
home and we will see you. “

“I love you, mom.” I said.

“I love you, too,” she said. “Tell everyone I love
them.”

“I will.”

Her office was in the process of evacuating. She had
called me at home because she knew I would be home with the new baby. She
called her sister, too, to let her know that she was with my father-in-law,
before they proceeded to leave the office. She tried to call M but by then,
there was no phone service.

I called C, who was working at a client’s office that
day in Parsippany, New Jersey. I told him that a plane had hit
the WorldTradeCenter
and that I had spoken with his mom. I asked him to come home soon. He asked if
I had heard from his mom again, and I said, “No.” I last spoke to her at 9 a.m.
After that, we couldn’t reach her.

When the first plane hit, one TV news commentator said
it was an act of terrorism, while others called it a tragic accident.

C’s parents had lived in a two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, all their lives. My mother-in-law would tell us
that my father-in-law never wanted to move because he wanted to stay in a
“one-fare-zone:” one train to work and one train back home. So when he was
given the opportunity to telecommute, only then did C’s parents move from
Brooklyn to New Jersey.
C’s dad had been working from home since moving, occasionally going into the
office in New York.
But on Sept. 11, after three years of working outside the office, he had to go
to New York City
for a meeting.

So was it fate?C’s dad had been inside 6 World Trade Center, an
eight-story office building right near the towers, on the third floor inside
the cafeteria, overlooking the promenade. He was early for his scheduled
meeting with the customs office at 9 a.m., so he had decided to get some coffee
with his female colleague. The cafeteria had big glass windows that showcased a
nice view of the big plaza that was in front of the towers. He was sitting,
sipping coffee when he heard an incredibly loud noise and saw the chandeliers
swaying inside the cafeteria. A few seconds later, as he looked out the window,
he saw debris the size of baseballs raining down on the plaza.

“Gee, what’s that all about?” he asked.

A few seconds later, my father-in-law heard a few loud
“boom-boom-booms!” The debris from the NorthTower
was raining down on the flat roof of the building he was in. My father-in-law
jumped up and ran away from the window and headed to the nearest exit. By the
time he got to the stairs, there were people coming down from the higher
floors. When he got outside, he looked up and noticed that there was a big hole
on the side of the NorthTower. He thought there
was an explosion inside the building. He didn’t realize that the tower was hit
by a plane until he heard a woman saying in disbelief that a plane had hit the NorthTower!

All my father-in-law was focused on was getting to his
wife. He rushed toward my mother-in-law’s office building. Her building was
already preparing to evacuate. Her office was on the third floor, the
television was on and the news about the morning’s events dominated the
airwaves. C’s parents were watching the news, and when they looked out the
window, they noticed that the people on West Street (West Side Highway) were all
looking up. It was at that moment that a second plane hit the SouthTower!
Dad looked down and saw people in the street starting to run and panic.

My mother-in-law had been walking with a cane on and
off that week because she had injured her foot. With her husband’s help, they
hurriedly went downstairs to the street and saw the burning towers. My
father-in-law saw somebody jump from the building. “I can’t stand here and
watch. It’s such a terrible sight!” he thought. The horrific image left a scar
that couldn’t be healed.

My in-laws had walked a short distance away from the WorldTradeCenter when the first
tower came down. They continued walking north when they noticed a woman walking
in the opposite direction with her mouth wide open and fear in her eyes. My
in-laws looked back and saw that the two buildings that used to tower over
downtown New York,
where they had each worked for decades, were now replaced by big clouds of
smoke. They were shocked, but they knew they couldn’t stop and continued
walking.

After the second plane hit the SouthTower,
I went to school and picked up my children and nephew, who was living with us.
I asked the principal, “How come you are not letting the kids go home?” He
looked at me with sadness and said, “Some of the kids’ parents may not be
coming home.”

And that’s when it hit me…

When I got back home, I called my brother and asked
him to come over, along with my parents. We had heard that the Pentagon had
been attacked, too, and there were conflicting reports of other plane crashes.
All I could think of was having the family together – under one roof!

C finally got home and called his sister, M, to come
over.

We were on our feet, bundles of nerves, hysterical to
put it mildly, not knowing C’s parents’ whereabouts. We waited by the phone.
The morning turned to afternoon. It was getting darker…

After walking for eight hours because they didn’t know
where to go, C’s parents finally made it to 34th Street. My father-in-law
was astonished to see that 34th
Street seemed so perfectly normal – not a single
trace of the tragedy. People were still shopping. My mother-in-law’s feet were
bleeding and in pain, so she stopped by Payless Shoes to get a new pair of
socks and sneakers.

Macy’s on 34th
Street remained open. People gathered at the
Cellar, where they were selling food. My mother-in-law borrowed someone’s cell
phone since hers had stopped working.

Our house phone rang. It was about 5 p.m. C picked up
the phone. It was his mom. She told C that they were at Macy’s and were headed
to 23rd Street
to get to the ferry that would take them to Weehawken.

After C spoke to his mom, he said, “Everything is OK.
Mom is shopping!” C’s parents finally got back to Cranford
at about 10 that night.

That day, September 11, is a day we will always
remember. Almost 3,000 people died that day. I don’t believe that it’s God’s
will that those people died. My children couldn't comprehend - heck, I still
don't!

Our family was one of the few who happened to be ....

I can’t even imagine what it would have been like if…

Yes, what if?

Like most Americans that day, we didn’t know what the
next day would be like.

That night, we said our thanks to God, ordered Chinese
food, and gathered together in the dining room as C’s parents recounted the
day’s events as they saw it – something
so tragic, one only wishes it had never happened!Prayers for everyone - for the loved ones we lost and for those of us left behind.Let's take a moment and say our prayers. Let's not forget.Pray for the loved ones we lost and for those who were left behind.Remember that day and how we all came together, united.Remember today and let our hearts be filled with love to get through another year

(Newspaper and magazines from 13 years ago, to this day, I still can't find the strength to read them)

About GottaLoveMom

I'm Jenjen Furer - As a stay-at-home mom, I started “GottaLoveMom” as a hobby. I write about family, friends and the challenges of motherhood. I believe that “Motherhood is not a job. It’s a gift. It’s a happy simple life.” Learn more